


Move On, But Don't Forget

by lissaann



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: rounds_of_kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-30
Updated: 2008-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-19 16:02:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/575066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lissaann/pseuds/lissaann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU!3x16. Dean says goodbye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Move On, But Don't Forget

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. RL became quite the bitch, so I fell way, way behind. I kinda like this. *shrug* A little different. And not actually kinky, which is unusual for me.
> 
> **Prompt:** "You're all I've ever wanted, all I've ever needed."  
>  **Kink:** kissing, necking, eye contact, schmoop, hand holding, fondling, stroking hair & the nape of the neck)  
>  **Prompter:** [](http://particlesofgale.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://particlesofgale.livejournal.com/)**particlesofgale** I hope I got in the ballpark of what you were looking for.  
> 

His head swam as he came back to consciousness. He felt like he was swimming, trying to make his way to the surface, just missing each time. Finally, he was able to open his eyes.

Without even looking around, he realized his reflexes were off. He felt sluggish and unable to keep a thought in his head.

He shook his head and slowly sat up. Two things became clear to him: 1) the sunlight was low in the west, telling him it was late afternoon and 2), he was alone.

He looked at the clock near the bed. It read 3:52, Wednesday.

_Wednesday?_ Sam thought, panicked. _No, no, no, no. Not Wednesday. It's a dream. It's the Trickster again._

As he looked around the room, he found the envelope with his name on it on the dresser and picked it up slowly, having the uncomfortable feeling that he already knew what was in the envelope. Ripping it open and pulling the paper out, he found the letter.

_Sammy,_

_I'm sorry that I drugged you. Well, no, I take that back, I'm not really sorry. I am sorry I had to hurt you like that, though._

_It's 10pm – two hours until my time is up – and I needed you…god, I just needed you to not see this. I don't want you trying to save me, and I don't want you to watch me die like this. I know you'd give everything up for me, but I can't let it happen. I can't stand by and watch my decision go to waste. You need to live, Sam. I could never watch you die again, no matter what. You deserve to live._

_You know I'm not good with my words, Sammy, but I had to let you know. I wanted you to have something that you could read, that you could keep with you, that you could look at whenever you needed to be reminded. To hear my voice as you read my words._

_Sammy, you're all I've ever wanted, this whole lifetime. I fell in love with you that day that Dad first put you in my arms. I'd never known such a feeling in all of my life. Even too young to understand, I knew I'd protect you for always. That you were **mine**._

_You're all I've ever needed. Needed to take care of you, needed to protect you, needed to love you, needed to save you. I didn't know what to do when you left for Stanford – it was like my whole purpose was just pulled out from underneath me. I never expected you to leave me, Sammy. I never expected you would just disappear from me, without a word._

_I know it hurt like hell for you to come back to me, for all kinds of reasons, the most important being Jess. But I needed you, too. You've been my life for so long…I needed you to be my life again._

_At the risk of sounding like a pussy, do you know what the most important times to me were?_

_They were the times, especially after you just got back from Stanford and especially after you died when we would just lie in bed, just the two of us, cocooned into our own little world. Stroking your hair and your neck, kissing you in all kinds of ways, all over your face and your neck, staring into your eyes, always finding myself lost inside them, seeing your expression in them. Telling you that I love you, over and over again in all the ways I could think of. Never enough, never enough to explain to you how much. How much of my world was wrapped up in you, how that time you were dead was a time that I never thought I'd survive through, how much your time away at Stanford killed me._

_I know, I know. This is a chick-flick letter. I guess facing my death has made me soft. Kinda glad you can't see me like this. I know you'd give me shit about it. But, Sammy, even through this letter, I can't tell you how important to me you are._

_You're strong, Sam. Stronger than I could ever be. You'll get through this. I know you'll mourn and I know you'll grieve, but don't get sucked down into it, Sam. Don't let the darkness pull you in. Get through this for me. I don't care if you never hunt again. Do whatever's going to make you the happiest. The best thing you can do for me is to move on, but not forget. I know you won't forget._

_Please forgive me, Sammy. Everything I did, I did out of love for you. Even this._

_Can't believe I've spent almost two hours working on this._

_I can hear them coming for me now._

_I'm so sorry, Sammy._

_I love you._

_~Dean_

Tears began to fall and with each drop, a little bit of the ink from the letter smeared. Sam put the letter on the bed, put his head in his hands and began to sob, for him, for Dean, for all that they lost. "God damn it, Dean. You fucking selfish asshole," he whispered, as if he himself would disappear if anyone heard the curse.

He listlessly went into the shower and let the water pour over him, not feeling any of it. He robotically washed his hair, then got out of the shower, dripping all over the dirty, cracking linoleum floor. He toweled himself off, got dressed and packed. He sat and stared at the empty bed across from him. "God, Dean." That's all that came out. That's all he could think.

He took the letter and methodically folded it until it fit in the pocket of his jeans, kissed it and put it in his pocket. He made his bed, made sure that Dean's bed was in order, picked up his bag, left the room without looking back and drove the Impala west to South Dakota. He _would_ get his brother out of Hell, no matter what it took.


End file.
